


What happens when you Google yourself

by Attasee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Broody Derek, Fanfiction, Google - Freeform, Horny Stiles Stilinski, M/M, My First Fanfic, POV Stiles, Sex Toys, Sexy Times, Wolf Derek, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attasee/pseuds/Attasee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that the dust has settled on Beacon Hills, Stiles is bored. Like really bored. So what does every minor celebrity do when they are bored? They Google themselves.<br/>He’s gonna regret it.<br/>Or wear himself out.<br/>Or both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What happens when you Google yourself

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at Fanfic. Hope I get it right, because I said I would never do this… I know Hellmouth isn't technically Beacon Hills but Buffy makes a small appearance.
> 
> Thank you to K and A for the pre-reads and the cheer leading.
> 
> This is for every fanfic I've read. Thank you for the inspiration.
> 
> Just wanted to say a massive thank you for the kudos for this. I never expected any, I just enjoyed being inspired & wrote it. Thank you x

**Search 1**  
Even now Stiles is impressed that he held off for so long considering his fingers have been inching to type his name into the Google search box for the last six months.  
Of course he could be forgiven for holding back. Who knew what he would find, many a life had been ruined by reacting to something someone had posted on social media, but sitting on his bed with his back against the head board, new iPad on his lap, Stiles’ urge to break his own rule making his hands hurt and his brain crave Adderall to calm it down.  
Fuck it.  
No.  
Stiles sighs at the screen, folds the cover over the shiny surface and hides it under his pillow as extra protection.  
No.  
He wasn’t going there.  
But…  
He knows the others in the pack have done it. Googled themselves that is. After the appearance on Ellen where Derek had wolfed out for the cameras and then afterwards being interviewed by Jimmy Fallon they all had except Stiles. He even ignored Lydia when she said it would have been rude not too after she had won her Lip Sync battle with Sarah Michelle Geller (they had then gone on to argue backstage about whose town had the best Hellmouth). Back then Stiles hadn’t stuck around for the results when she showed everyone. No, instead he had run to his hotel room in an attempt to escape the crazy train that his life had become.  
Okay yes, Stiles could admit that when it was all kicking off he had gotten swept up with it all, hunters, sparks, Wolf Scott, and that damn thing that had turned him into bad Stiles, he’d enjoyed it, loved it even, however there had still a small part of him had craved it to be over so he could go back to lead a normal life once more.  
Sitting up Stiles lifted the pillow off the top of the iPad once more and folds it so it stands upright on his lap.  
Okay?  
He can do this and he takes a deep breath. The iPad of course springs to life instantly and Stiles hits the safari app, closing all the ‘other’ research stuff (porn) he has been looking at in an attempt to stop him from Googling his name.  
Stiles’ long fingers drum the screen.  
No.  
Yes.  
Fuck it.  
Stop it.  
He pauses once more, his mind itching to ruminate again over the facts as he knows them.

1\. Never Google yourself. Because dear god anything could pop up. Stiles may well be a fly by the pants type of guy and he reckons even now, with his hand twitching over the ‘search’ button for the umpteenth time that week he can handle whatever the internet has to throw at him but….  
2\. See 1.

“Fuck it,” Stiles says after a long minute and he hits the enter key with such force it practically pushes through to the other side.  
Of course it’s a non-starter and Stiles is a little put out.  
The usual social media sites appear as top searches, and yeah okay, Stiles spends a little more than a few minutes (hours) reading back (and laughing) at his old tweets and marvelling at his official blue tick from Twitter (everyone, including Jackson got one after saving the world from utter destruction for the sixth – or was it seventh time) but he soon gets bored, then tired and hungry, and he pretty much abandons everything when he hears Derek (aka Mr. Broody himself, blue tick owner too, although he never uses Twitter and says he never will) standing in his kitchen talking about football with his dad (non-blue tick owner).

 **Search 2**  
The next time Stiles sits down to google himself he ignores the most popular results. Facebook? No. He doesn’t need to see another “it’s complicated” status update from Allison and Scott if his life depends on it (again), so he swiftly scrolls down the page spotting a link to a LinkendIn profile.  
Was that a ‘thing’ he thinks?  
Stiles clicks on it only to find out that’s a non-starter too and the sort of webpage only useful for dentists or vets (maybe it’s a thing he could recommend it to Scott because lord knows that man needed to raise his profile a lot more).  
Then Stiles trips over his Wikipedia page.  
Okay so that is new.  
Stiles reads slowly giving out the odd huff and puff when he disagrees with a ‘fact’.  
Personal Life;  
‘A close friend of Stiles Stilinski reported he had an unrequited love affair with Lydia Martin for many years. Mr Skillinski is currently single.”  
He grunts at the screen. “I was not in love with Lydia Martin, Jackson!”

 **Search 3**  
Stiles has watched himself on You Tube more times than he cares to mention to anyone, including his Dad who still finds it hilarious that his only son is now famous.  
Also, don’t even get him started on finding out Danny and Ethan decided to become VBloggers as they film themselves recreating perilous situations the pack had got into like that film Be Kind, Rewind. The two of them reenacting the time where Stiles rescued Derek from the pool hadn’t been a thing Stiles had needed to see on repeat. He’d even mentioned their exploits at the last pack meeting (something else Stiles is growing bored with) and voiced his opposition to the stunts by throwing the odd strained glance at Derek in hope he would support him, Stiles had all but stormed out of the room when the stupid wolf had simply told the duo to ‘fill their boots.’  
Of course that response had gotten the dickhead couple even more excited and Derek throwing out an increasing number of intense stares in his direction.

 **Search 4 (the last time) (because it was fucking boring alright?!)**  
By the weekend Stiles is back in his bedroom ignoring text messages from the pack with his iPad on his lap for reasons he can’t explain.  
Earlier that evening over dinner with his dad Stiles decided to google himself one last time (for good luck) and that would be it.  
As usual he gets himself comfortable on his bed, back against the headboard, feet on top of a pillow raised slightly so the iPad is at the right angle.  
By now is name is the default search when he types the letters S and T so he quickly scrolls down the list. _Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski isn’t a wolf, Stiles Stilinski dead_ (wtf), _Stiles Stilinski girlfriend_ (snort), they are all there and Stiles shakes his head at the screen until he sees a new one has joined the list -  
_Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale_  
Well damn.  
This time Stiles doesn’t just shake his head at the screen more likes absentmindedly nods at it. “In for a penny in for a pound,” he says quoting some English TV show he has seen on Netflix and his fingers hit the link.  
Holy.  
Shit.  
For a brief moment Stiles can’t breathe. Or was it two moments because what has appeared on his iPad isn’t anything he discussed with Ellen Degeneres.  
His eyes automatically scan the search results like they are on autopilot. Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale boyfriends (oh), Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale lovers (!!!!!), Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale You Tube (oh god yes no).The list goes on and on and on. And then there are pictures too. Lots of them. Of them kissing, holding each other, oh fucking hell there is even a gif of Stiles being pushed up against a wall by Derek and their noses are like an inch apart and well doesn’t that just send a jolt of something Stiles thought he had buried right towards his dick and out the end like a firework.  
By now Stiles breathing deep, the results just go and on and he feels like he has stepped off the edge of a cliff and into a crater full of well… Sterek, because yeah, Stiles looks at the screen again, that’s what they are calling it, because somehow, like Brangelina, Larry, and Darry, he and Derek have become a power couple.

 **Search 5**  
It takes Stiles another two days to look at the web search results again (he so saved them) and after food and a brief discussion with his dad about what he wants to do with his life now all the excitement is over he resumes his usual position at the head of his bed and opens his iPad.  
It doesn’t take Stiles long to find what he wants. The google search engine seems particularly fast that evening like it is willing him to get on with it.  
Stiles starts the research session by acting like he distracted. Crossing his legs, flicking his phone onto mute, putting a pillow behind his head to get comfortable and it’s only when he has adjusted his pillow for the umpteenth time does he hit the link that’s on the screen.  
Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale (he’s considering renaming to Sterek)  
At first Stiles keeps his eyes closed, squeezing them shut tight until he can muster up the confidence to look at what he knows what will be in glorious Technicolor inches away from his face. Three minutes later he peels them back and surprises himself when the first search results from the other evening appear at the top.  
No he hadn’t been dreaming.  
_Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale boyfriends_  
Taking a deep breathe Stiles hits the link on the screen.  
Oh boy.  
Oh.  
Boy.  
For another three minutes Stiles doesn’t know where to look, and feels like he needs to give himself permission to do so. There are images and You Tube crack videos, links to Tumblr pages and finally forums - like whole forums – big ones. Forums dedicated to him and Derek getting it on so hard his iPad might explode.  
Stiles scrolls quickly by most because he just can’t even. He finally hits links on one because the urge just to find out what lies inside of them is too overwhelming. A number are member only sites; which considering he is the main player in most of them he thinks is incredibly rude. A few though are open, and Stiles taps his screen quickly on these links before closing his eyes once more-  
Yeah… Even though he is warming to the idea of this being a ‘thing’ he can’t bring himself to look.  
One site however catches his eye with its black background, blood red typeface and stock photo of wolves, Derek and him. For the Love of Sterek is an active forum if the few open threads Stiles can see are anything to go by, so he spends a few moments looking at the threads that discuss their last appearance on the Jimmy Fallon show and the detailed map someone has drawn of everything that went down in Beacon Hills.  
“Wow,” Stiles says to himself secretly impressed by the quality of the work.  
His long fingers swipe across the screen again, this time he finds fan art and not just of him and Derek too but the whole pack. “This is good. Real good,” Stiles continues as he scans the webpage once more. Pictures of wolves fill up his screen, alongside detailed almost real life drawings of him with Lydia, him with Scott and finally him next Derek looking closer than they ever should be.  
At the top of the screen a log in / sign up feature catches his eye and Stiles hovers over it daring himself to hit the link.  
Should he?  
It takes him two seconds to decide.  
_Scott think of a good user name for me_ Stiles texts quickly realizing he is shit at this because of course they need a user name.  
_What?_  
_A good user name – like a handle – around my name._  
_Holy shit dude are you bored?_  
_Dude…_  
_Erm.. Stiles?_  
_Stiles shakes his head. Too obvious_  
_Fuck Stiles I don’t know. I’ll ask Allison._  
_K_  
It takes Scott ten minutes to reply.  
_Iambored?_  
_That’s shit_  
_Iamadick?_  
_Bro…_  
_Concerned Resident?_  
_It’s not for the local newspaper FFS, I’m not my dad. Or Deaton. Or Boyd._  
_Then wtf is it for?_  
Stiles sighs, his finger still hovering over the sign up link to the forum. Leave it, never mind he finally types back. I’ll think of one myself.  
There is a long pause before Scott replies. Stiles suspects it’s because Allison no doubt has her hand down Scott’s pants.  
_Xoil_ Scott finally types back; Fuck knows what that meant, the man was obviously getting his dick sucked.  
Stiles sighs again at the log in screen then punches himself in the arm. Why couldn’t he just of thought of the name Sterek before anyone else, because that would have been so fucking easy and technically right? He owns it.  
Sort of.

 **Search 6**  
In the end it takes him three days to choose a username for the forum and so there is no way of finding out who he is (he ignores the fact that his IP address can be traced back to Beacon Hills) he even makes up an email account with the same name.  
_IamnotStiles_  
See? Clever right? Or so he likes to think but it takes the forum a further week to authorize him. A user called Sterek4eva, the mod in charge finally emails him a series of questions that Stiles dutifully completes and sends back the same day.

1\. How did you find our forum?  
~~I was googling myself~~ Google search

2\. Do you know any other members on our forum?  
_Sort of._  
No.

3\. Do you plan to produce fanfic?  
Not sure.  
He ponders about this. Stiles can’t draw to save his life but writing? No. Taking a wild stab in the dark he reckons any fanfic produced probably should involve him and Derek ‘doing stuff’ and whilst he is okay about reading it (possibly – he hasn’t ‘gone there’ yet) writing it is another thing.  
Stiles sticks with ‘not sure’

4\. Do you have any links to Beacon Hills?  
Stiles lies hard at this one and he isn’t even sorry.  
No

The log in email arrives a day later whilst Stiles is eating lunch, his cell buzzing lightly on the wooden surface next to his hand.  
“You okay there son?” His dad says, forcing a carrot into his mouth with a wince. He eyes the cell through a weary expression.  
Stiles nods checking his phone as discreetly as he can, but not once lifting his eyes up to look at his dad.  
The Sherriff doesn’t take the hint though. “You not out with the pack tonight?”  
This time Stiles shakes his head with a resounding no. He hasn’t been out with the pack for over a month. Everyone is off doing their own things. Scott with Allison, Danny & Ethan with the Vblogging, Lydia is being Lydia and running for the Presidency of something, Jackson is still a dick and Derek? Well Stiles doesn’t think he can face Derek at this particular point in time.  
Not when the log in to For the Love of Sterek is burning a hole in his pocket. Or any other time come to think of it.  
“Nah, they are busy and stuff.” Stiles finally answers; spearing a green bean with his fork.  
The Sheriff however isn’t backing down and pulls a face in response. Stiles gets why he worries. Before shit went down with the ‘Hellmouth’ and all the other stuff the pack had thrown at it Stiles was planning on going to college to study History but now the world has changed and everyone knows there are big bad things out there Stiles is feeling a little left behind.  
“You thought a bit more about returning to college?” His dad enquires pushing the plate of vegetables away.  
Stiles nods and feels his cell phone vibrate again, he’s just itching to leave the table and log on. He gives his dad the answer that he wants, “History. I’m gonna go back and do history.”  
The sheriff forces a smile obviously pleased with Stiles choice or that Stiles even answered. “Gotta work tonight kid,” he announces like Stiles hasn’t noticed he is on his own again tonight.  
“See ya Dad.”  
The Sheriff doesn’t even say goodbye and fuck yes, Stiles knows his dad worried about him; he can tell by the way his dad swaggers off down the hallway not looking back. He knows Stiles is bored and feeling a little left out even if he doesn’t say so but surely he knows he’s gonna be okay right?  
_Right?_  
Right.  
The moment the front door closes and the patrol vehicle leaves the driveway Stiles is up out of his seat and into his bedroom before his dad has made it to the end of their road.  
Dropping onto the bed (usual position assumed) Stiles opens up his iPad quickly hitting the link in the email sent to him and finds himself directed to a log on page for the forum.  
Stiles takes a deep breath.  
He doesn’t know what to expect.  
He’s scared; the internet is a big place. There are a lot of people out there that would recognize his face and voice over three fields and judging by the fan art they know his mannerisms too, the way he blinks or even how he lifts a cup of coffee. There are gifs dedicated to him smiling, licking his lips and touching his hair. He finds it scary that all of it has been created in some hope of a relationship between him and Derek. Everyone ‘ships the whole idea of it and Stiles is getting the feeling it’s going to be a heavy cross to bear...  
Stiles takes another deep breath. His fingers are already shaking as he touches the first link he finds.  
Oh boy.  
Oh god.  
He wipes the palms of his hands on the bed sheets.  
Like the open part of the forum there are pictures, but these are more explicit and Stiles scrolls through slowly as he attempts to digest what he is seeing.  
Stiles cuddling Derek, Derek cuddling Stiles. Holding, touching, and caressing bare flesh. There is even Stiles straddling Derek and vice versa.  
Then there is the biting and ‘sweet baby Jesus’ doesn’t that just send a sharp bolt of lightning to his dick like the first time he saw it?  
Now Stiles is really shaking. He doesn’t know how to feel if he was to be honest with himself. Anger is one. This is his life. His. Stiles Stilinski. And people are messing with it. They are creating art and words about him and Stiles really doesn’t know where he stands with it all.  
He just can’t…

 **Search 7**  
A few hours later and Stiles is calmer. Yes, he is still angry and still somewhat surprised by his reaction to seeing the content but in all honesty he’s still a little intrigued to, because well it’s Derek and the fact that yes he, Stiles Stilinski has always had the mother of all crushes on the guy since the moment he stepped into his life.  
Stiles had originally thought it was the bad boy vibe the guy had going on, leather jacket, white shirt that seeped into the ‘bad boy James Dean/Steve McQueen kink’ fantasy that Stiles carried around with him. But then one bloodied up t-shirt later that had Derek sporting a borrowed a t-shirt and he was a Stilinski ‘gone’.  
It’s why he logs back onto For the Love of Sterek for the second time at midnight sat in his usual position with a mug of tea and his window is open.  
“Right man,” he says to himself in a firm whisper confidence flowing, “let’s do this.”  
Stiles skips the photos this time and heads towards where he knows the stories are and where he knows it’s more active. With each refresh of the website Stiles’ user name lurks at the bottom of the page alongside others he saw on his first visit – Lusey, Phoebe, Donk and Broodie and he wonders if anyone has noticed.  
Gradually he begins to familiarize himself with the layout and begins to keep up with comments, ignoring the “Welcome to the fandom” thread that is pinned to the top. Before he knows it an hour has passed and Stiles has read more opinions of his and Derek's (supposed) flirting, seen more fan art of himself that he’s lost count of it all.  
Eventually he is directed to a thread entitled Hale Library by a link posted by a user called Xero.  
Stiles pauses a moment before hitting the link, because god damn it he knows what’s behind that trap door, the threads that he has read have been hinting as such all night.  
He clicks on it hesitantly and lets out a puff of air.  
The Hale Library isn’t black or red – it’s a total opposite to the main website and designed just like a traditional library with a bookcase as its wallpaper. Split into sections each one has a header that Stiles assumes is an indicator of its content. ‘Officer Derek, Officer Stiles, Army Stiles, Stiles Older, Derek Younger, Hot Dad (Stiles hopes to fuck that’s not about his dad), Disability, Long Lost Love, Stiles Vampire, Alpha Derek, Alpha Stiles, Mpreg’. The list goes on and on and Stiles doesn’t even want to think about what the hell Mpreg is.  
He tentatively clicks on the first link (start at the top) and another list appears. Here he finds each title thread has a header, a short description and a series of tags.  
Stiles pushes his finger against the screen and taps on the first link scrolling straight to the main body of the text.  
He takes a massive fucking lung full of air just because…  
Disappointing the particularly story starts out slow. He realizes it’s a piece of work set around the pack and has Derek wolfing out within the first five minutes. It’s not what he expects (because he was hoping expecting for something a touch saucier) and he finishes it in about 20 minutes.  
The next is an altogether different story. The author has focused on Beacon Hills this time and Stiles reads it to find Derek and Stiles are shop owners who hate each other but who are secretly in love.  
Stiles snorts at the content more than once pretending he isn’t bothered by it – there is no way that Derek could ever run a shop, he has practically no patience at the best of times but in a retail setting no way. He snorts again when the story starts to hot up a little and a tub of ice cream gets itself involved (there’s a food fight, and cleaning up and lingering looks between the two of them). He doesn’t snort however when he reaches the scene where they finally get it on, because his first instincts are to flip the lip of the iPad cover closed and hide it again under a pile of pillows.  
He even repeats the well-practiced action of patting the top of the pile of pillows with the palm of his hand just to make sure the device is closed so nothing can seep out.  
Stiles can’t read it.  
He just can’t go there.  
Plus, Derek has just text him to ask what he is up to…

 **Search 8**  
The next day Stiles does go there.  
And Holy shit.

 **Search 9**  
*blinks*

 **Search 10**  
_‘Stiles’ body hits the bed with a thump as the bed sheets bounce up around him covering his now naked torso. His chest is now rising and falling in time with each step Professor Hale takes towards him and the king size bed Stiles had insisted upon when they finally stopped skirting around each other._  
_“You want this Stiles,” The professor whispers, his voice is now an octave lower than Stiles has ever heard it before, even in class, even in the staff room and the sound sends a shiver down his spine._  
_Stiles nods._  
_Of course he wants it._  
_He wants it hard._  
_“You know I do.” Stiles replies finally. It also comes out as a whisper. As an open invite he then lifts a/his leg up and places his foot flat on the tight sheet and hard mattress. His legs automatically gaping open like he is presenting himself to the man who only three minutes before was sucking his cock in a lift._  
_“You want it too.”_  
_Professor Hale nods._  
_Stiles’ cock is now at full mast, and as another open invite he grabs it and tugs at the end harshly._  
_“Come on Professor Hale; show me what you fucking made of.”_  
_Professor Hale smirks at Stiles tone but doesn’t yet move. “It’s my turn, you cocky little shit.”_  
_Stiles doesn’t get a chance to respond though because no sooner have the words left Professor Hale’s mouth than he is over Stiles, straddling his torso, knees pinning Stiles’ shoulder down, pushing the top of his cock against his lips._  
_“Take it.”_  
_Stiles can’t refuse.’_

 _After two solid nights of reading his own fan fiction Stiles is a mess. Gone is the anger that had been there at the beginning, instead it has turned into something else and his hand now automatically drifts to his dick with each piece of work he reads._  
_The stories are good Stiles can admit, but the fact that he’s getting turned on by them is messing with his brain slightly and if he thinks about too hard it’s a pretty fucked up thing to be doing._  
_That said, with a final tug of his dick and dip into his own subconscious he is shooting cum over his naked chest for the second time that night and he feels like every single nerve ending has been set on fire._

 **Search (Stiles has lost count)**  
_‘“Deputy Stilinski?” the voice says from the back of the patrol vehicle. Stiles attempts to ignore it and its owner, the man who he only arrested moments before and who is now sat in cuffs. Instead he tries to focus on the low level chatter on the radio. He sighs heavily as the vehicle falls silent._  
_“Come on Deputy you know you want to fuck me”’_

 **Search 25???**  
Stiles has now hit his groove with the complex combination of reading and jacking off at the same time. Tonight he balances his iPad on a pillow and works his hand into his briefs on autopilot now.  
“Yeah,” he says, he hardly recognizes his own voice, “take it Derek.” The words on the screen sound weird said out loud but he does it anyway, careful not to be too loud in case it wakes his dad.  
“All the way in.”

 **Search 27**  
Stiles needs purchase on something. His hand is moving faster and faster wrapped around his cock but something is missing and he can’t work out what. He needs to feel like he is screwing something other than his own five fingers.  
Stiles raises his leg up, bent at the knee and totally exposing himself to see if that will help, but it doesn’t. Then he stands, one leg propped up on his desk, but again no the angle is all wrong.  
He needs something…  
Something…  
“Come on!” he shouts angry at himself taking another quick glance at the words on the screen one more time.  
_Fuck._  
_Suck._  
_Rim._

 **Search 27.5**  
Thirty minutes later he is the proud owner of a porn star endorsed Fleshjack and because he spent over $30 a dildo too.  
He also orders a fuck ton more lube and prays to the lord of that is all fanfic it gets delivered in an unmarked parcel and when his dad isn’t home.

Which of course, is exact the opposite of what happens.

A few days’ later Stiles is woken by the sound of muffled voices in his kitchen.  
“What can I do for you Derek?” He hears his dad’s voice say, the front door slamming shut a few seconds later. The sound of two sets of footsteps crossing the wooden kitchen floor follows it moments later.  
“I signed for this,” Stiles hears the big wolf say, “it’s got Stiles’ name on it.”  
On hearing the words and quicker than he has ever done before Stiles hits the staircase, landing on the bottom step with a thud, his pyjama’s tangling in his feet as he does so.  
“Whoa there son, easy! Is there a fire?” his dad shouts watching his son flail around on the floor. Of course Derek doesn’t move or say anything.  
Jesus he looks hot.  
Stiles shakes his head of the thought and goes onto ignoring both of their ‘concern’, “you got a package for me?” he asks instead looking out for a brown box or something equally as discrete.  
Derek is already nodding, “I signed for it.”  
It’s like all of Stiles’ worst nightmares rolled into one. Not only hasn’t he had time to think about what he looks or smells like, he got up and rushed downstairs so quickly he’s trying to process the fact that actual Derek signed for his new Fleshjack  
Derek.  
Fuck  
“What you been buying son?” The Sheriff’s voice cuts off the panic rising in Stiles chest. His cheeks are already flushing with heat, the sensation slowly creeping down his neck. How does he answer? Stiles can’t possibly tell them the truth ‘oh that’ll be a 10inch dildo’, (Stiles took a stab in the dark about Derek’s size) or ‘more lube’.  
“Just things.”  
“Things?”  
“Yeah.”  
He sees Derek eyebrow lift. “It’s heavy.”  
Double fuck. Stiles needs to think quickly. “It’s books!” He finally shouts.  
“Books?”  
“For college.” Because yeah, Stiles is obviously genius, “books for college.”

 **Search 30 – 40**  
Of course the Fleshjack is a revelation; Stiles can ignore the embarrassment he still feels knowing Derek signed for it purely on the basis of how good his dick feels thrusting inside the tight channel.

 **Search 42**  
Over the next week Stiles jacks off so much to his own porn that he is physically exhausted but he honestly can’t stop. So what if he never posts on the forum, but then neither do some of the others he sees sat logged in at the bottom of the screen. By now he has gotten so used to seeing the same users names, Lusey, Phoebe, Donk and Broodie, it’s beginning to feel comforting seeing them lurking there like him, like it’s okay for him just to read and not post.

Less comforting however is Stiles reaction upon a particularly filthy piece of work involving a sex swing, a whole can of lube and a latex glove.

**Search…. (All the blood has rushed away from Stiles brain, he doesn’t know what day of the week it even is)**

A few days later Stiles is lying on the sofa half asleep with exhaustion after a particularly energetic pre-lunchtime wank, whilst pretending to watch Bruce Willis in the first Die Hard film.  
“Son are you okay?” he hears his dad’s say. The sound filters through the explosions and gun fire like a knife through butter.  
Stiles of course isn’t okay. He’s now physically drained; the euphoria of the past few days/weeks ebbing away and it feels like his whole body is devoid of fluid.  
“Yeah am okay,” Stiles shouts back, suddenly turning the volume up to hide what he thinks are two sets of footsteps. He knows the den door is going to open any moment and he hunkers down further into the throw cushions he stole from Lydia’s house.  
“Good,” his dad says finally shuffling into the room, “‘cause Derek is here. He’s been stood outside for fifteen minutes trying to get in.”  
Stiles turns towards the door and yes Derek is stood in his house, a situation Stiles has been trying to avoid since the Fleshjack incident and since Stiles discovered his fictitious relationship with the man.  
“Hey Derek,” Stiles mumbles, he glances over at the big brooding alpha, quickly turning away when he sees him sniff the air. “You okay?”  
Derek doesn’t answer, not for a long time. Instead he tilts his head like an enquiring puppy does, sniffing the air once more. Stiles watches Derek’s eyebrows shift up his forehead.  
Bollocks.  
Derek knows, that’s all Stiles can think about. Derek knows. He can smell the pre-lunch sexy time cum on Stiles body that he hadn’t bothered to wipe off properly. He can also see that Stiles is exhausted, all orgasmed out with Sterek, even though technically he hasn’t a clue about Sterek.  
He can even see the way that Stiles is looking at him in a not so completely differently light.  
But surely he can’t…  
Stiles tries again. “You been busy?”  
Derek snorts.  
Fuck.  
“Not really. You?”  
Stiles feels his face flushing with heat once more, the tone in Derek’s voice is turned down a notch so it is deep and husky. Or is Stiles just imagining that little quirk? “I... erm… yeah… I’ve been around,” he lies.  
“What you been doing?”  
Double fuck.  
“Gaming, research, you know just in case we get attacked again. I’m thinking of going back to college in the Fall,” Stiles answers with the first thing that comes into his head.  
By now Stiles’ dad has left the room leaving him and Derek alone. The big alpha has somehow moved to sit opposite Stiles, bent forward, elbows resting on his knees without Stiles realizing he has done so.  
“College eh?”  
Stiles nods his head slowly in response. “The books I ordered.” He replies - ‘again’ genius.  
Derek raises an eyebrow, “anything else? You been reading much? Watching films?”  
Triple fuck.  
Stiles shakes his head. “I’ve just been busy.” (wanking)  
“You haven’t been to pack meetings either. The others are wondering if you are okay.”  
“I’m okay.”  
Derek doesn’t answer. Not for a long time. In the background Bruce is kicking up a storm, barefooted, carrying an AK47. “If you do want to talk, about anything, because I know like me, you haven’t found some of this showbiz shit easy and I know you are distracted, you know where I am yes?”  
Stiles nods again. “Yeah sure dude,” he replies suddenly trying not to look in Derek’s direction. “I know exactly where you are.” (Not in Stiles’ pants)

 **Search 55**  
_‘Derek twisted their bodies until Stiles was underneath, arms wrapped around his own torso, mouth on the pulse point just below Derek’s now exposed jawline. He knows it is a sign of submission to let the younger man touch there but this time his wolf isn’t fighting it, not in the slightest._  
_“Der,” Stiles says with a slight moan, “please Der.”_  
_Derek can’t ignore that tone. He can’t ignore the way the man underneath him makes him feel._  
_He lifts Stiles’ body up away from the mattress so his head falls back against the pillow his neckline now exposed like Derek’s was moments earlier._  
_“I love you.” Derek whispers and his teeth sink into the pale creamy skin.’_

 **Search 60**  
Stiles is realizing slowly he is addicted to his own pretend sex life. He can’t help himself, and he’s beginning to hate himself more each day. His hands are sore; his dick has been fighting to get up the last few times, his whole body is far too sensitive.  
He needs time out.

 **No search**  
It’s been two days since Stiles last looked at the website after finding and reading a story that had him sobbing his heart out for an hour after. In fact it’s been two days since he opened the cover to the iPad and tapped the link. Instead Stiles locks himself away in his bedroom not moving, only surfacing under the watchful gaze of his father to eat, drink and use the bathroom.  
He knows his father is worried but he leaves him alone. College isn’t discussed neither is the pack.  
Instead Stiles spends hours lying on his back facing the ceiling ignoring texts and trying not to think about the images going through his mind, pictures of Derek on Stiles, Stiles on Derek, words proclaiming love, mate, and forever.  
Stiles knows he has become obsessed with something that can never be, something he never knew he wanted and it’s breaking his heart.

Stiles wakes the next early morning and he knows instantly he isn’t alone. The bed is dipped to one side, a heavier body sitting upright; back against the headboard in a position Stiles is far too familiar with.  
“Derek?” he asks feeling the warmth seeping through the bedlinen.  
Derek shifts next to him, releasing a sigh as he does so. As usual he doesn’t say anything straight away, but Stiles knows it’s him.  
“Stiles,” Derek finally says many moments later. His voice sounds weary and tired and he drags out the ‘s’ part a touch longer than he normally does. “You want to talk?”  
Stiles shakes his head as best as he can do given that he is practically suffocating under the pillow he buried his head under at some point during the night. He doesn’t want to talk. Not to Derek anyway. In all honestly Stiles doesn’t want to talk to anyone let alone the object of his nonexistent love life / object of desire.  
Because that’s what Derek has turned into and Stiles knows that now. He had always had a slight crush on the guy but now he’s visited an alternate world where they are lovers it’s all turned very real.  
Or not.  
It’s confusing. Because in the end it’s just words on a page and Stiles can get over that.  
Probably.  
In time.  
“I think we should talk.”  
Stiles shakes his head again. He needs Derek to shut up. Like right now. But of course he doesn’t. “I think we should talk about how you haven’t been about for the last couple of days,” he continues.  
“Derek. Leave it,” because he doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it and who gives a shit bout pack meetings..  
“No.”  
“Please?” he replies because Stiles isn’t afraid of begging.  
With the silence the air in the room soon turns a little denser, a little thicker. Even from under the protection of a pillow Stiles can feel it.  
The mattress dips one more time. This time closer.  
“When you didn’t log on the first day I wasn’t worried,” Derek says suddenly and Stiles’ body stills nay freezes at the words.  
What?  
When?  
“H-?”  
“Or the second day either, but when it became a week I got worried, like really worried. I even mailed a mod; you know the Sterek4eva dude and he said he hadn’t logged on once in over a week and the last thing you read was the one where we played really really happy families.”  
Stiles is still frozen he can’t articulate the words he needs to say because Derek is still talking. “I found it three months ago, the website, I got bored, I Googled myself – don’t ever do that by the way, there is some seriously whacked out shit about us online – and found it.”  
What?  
When?  
Even more whacked out than what Stiles had seen? He was borderline intrigued/horrified.  
“H-?”  
“Let me speak Stiles,” Derek interrupts Stiles by lifting a hand to stop whatever he was about to say. At some point Stiles’ head has shot up from under the pillow and Derek’s hand was almost touching his nose. “I think I realised it was you after about a week…IamnotStiles… I mean it’s too obvious… too you, plus I just knew. Then there was the package you had delivered.”  
Oh.  
“I recognized the label on the box and was so fucking glad it had your name on it and not the Sheriff’s.”  
Ewwww  
Wait… hang on? “You recognized the box?” Stiles is trying to process everything slowly but that snippet of information… his brain needs to back track. “You ordered from the same place?”  
A shy looking Derek is now nodding back. The ends of his ears turning a little pink in embarrassment, “I needed something more than my hand. Something more…”  
“Real?”  
“Yeah real.”  
Stiles is now upright and wide eyed, he knows his hair is sticking up and his face crumpled but this is too much to process horizontally. “You got off on it? Us?”  
Derek nods again. “I’m Broodie. You call me Mr. Broody. I figured it fit and yes I got off on it – us – a lot. I’m surprised I can walk straight.”  
For a brief moment Stiles thinks that he has somehow woken up in an alternate universe where Derek Hale and he haven’ just spent their formative years fighting off bad guys and introducing the world to the real things that go bump in the night. Instead they have lived a very quiet existence in the warmth of Beacon Hills much like the content of some of the stories he has read.  
“Are you serious?”  
Derek nods his head once more. “Yeah.”  
“Me, you - Sterek and this whole thing is semi-real?”  
“Absolutely.”

 **The last search (ever) (well for now) (that hour anyway)**  
“Have you ever posted on the forum?” Derek asks him a few days later. They are both naked on Stiles’ bed covered in cum after pretty much working their way through the bulk of the stories having role played their favorite scenes.  
“Nah,” Stiles replies slightly out of breath. “I’m not a writer or an artist, I’m a lover.” He continues with a waggle of his eyebrows even though at that moment in time he couldn’t be classed as even being that considering his dick might be broke.  
“Do you think we should?”  
“And say what?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Nothing? Defeating the object big guy, we have to say something.” Surely Derek realizes Stiles is too exhausted for composing well thought out cohesive first posts.  
“We could post something. Like a picture…”  
“A picture?”  
“Of us.”  
“Us?”  
“There is an ‘us’ isn’t there? A real life Sterek?”  
Stiles pecks a kiss on the wolf’s nose just to confirm it, “Yes; but you want to post a picture of us together now?”  
Derek nods, “In bed, together. Think of it as a world exclusive. We have a lot to thank the fandom for.”  
Stiles just can’t even… “We’ll blow it up.” He replies, but the idea has legs.  
Lots of legs.  
“Do it Mr. Broody.” He says finally, his dick perking back up. “Then get out your Fleshjack. I bagsy shot gun.”


End file.
